Lady Good-for-Nothing eBook

Master Dicky munched his macaroon and sipped his cordial.
He had a whole guinea in his breeches pocket, and
was thinking it would be great fun to step out and
explore the town, if only for a little way. To-morrow
was Sunday, and all the stores would be closed.
But Manasseh was too busy to come with him for bodyguard—­and
his father’s boots were off; and besides, he
stood in great awe and shyness of his admired parent.
Had the boots been on, it would have cost him a bold
effort to make the request. On the whole, the
cordial warming him, Master Dicky had a mind to take
French leave.

Chapter III.

TWO GUINEAS.

Though the wind hummed among the chimneys and on the
back of the roof, on either side of the lamp over
the gateway the maples stood in the lee and waved
their boughs gently, shedding a leaf now and then in
some deflected gust. Beyond and to the left
stretched a dim avenue, also of maples; and at the
end of this, as he reached the gate, the boy could
spy the lights of the fair.

There was no risk at all of losing his way.

He stepped briskly forth and down the avenue.
Where the trees ended, and with them the high wall
enclosing the inn’s stable-yard, the wind rushed
upon him with a whoop, and swept him off the side-walk
almost to the middle of the road-way. But by
this time the lights were close at hand. He
pressed his little hat down on his head and battled
his way towards them.

The first booth displayed sweetmeats; the next hung
out lines of sailors’ smocks, petticoats, sea-boots,
oilskin coats and caps, that swayed according to their
weight; the third was no booth but a wooden store,
wherein a druggist dispensed his wares; the fourth,
also of wood, belonged to a barber, and was capable
of seating one customer at a time while the others
waited their turn on the side-walk. Here—­his
shanty having no front—­the barber kept
them in good humour by chatting to all and sundry
while he shaved; but a part of the crowd had good-naturedly
drifted on to help his neighbour, a tobacco-seller,
whose stall had suffered disaster. A painted
wooden statue of a Cherokee Indian lay face downward
across the walk, as the wind had blown it: bellying
folds of canvas and tarpaulin hid the wreck of the
poor man’s stock-in-trade. Beyond this
wreckage stood, in order, a vegetable stall, another
sweetmeat stall, and a booth in which the boy (who
cared little for sweetmeats, and, moreover, had just
eaten his macaroon) took much more interest.
For it was hung about with cages; and in the cages
were birds of all kinds (but the most of them canaries),
perched in the dull light of two horn lanterns, and
asleep with open, shining eyes; and in the midst stood
the proprietor, blowing delightful liquid notes upon
a bird-call.